


Raise the Bar

by fadeoutslow



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 11:23:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2619965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadeoutslow/pseuds/fadeoutslow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seb is <i>interested</i> in Nico. Warning for serious overuse of <i>italics</i>. Older fic reposted from tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raise the Bar

What Seb likes about Nico is that he's different. And maybe _like_ is the wrong word, because Seb _likes_ a lot of people. Or, okay, not exactly a _lot_ , but _some_ people, definitely. Not that many, actually, when you get right down to it, but Nico is one of them.

But _liking_ isn't the point, because the point, in fact, is that Seb finds Nico _interesting_. Fascinating, even, perhaps, but Seb's not sure he's willing to go _quite_ that far.

But Nico is _different_. And different is always interesting to Seb.

Because Formula 1 drivers are mostly a temperamental bunch, high strung as racehorses, and while Seb, like everyone else, would prefer to assume that he's the exception, the one person who rises above it all, doesn't let anything get to him, he knows that's not true, however much he'd like to pretend it is.

Nico, however, _is_ the exception, really is the one person who's beyond all the crap and the politics, who, on the surface, at least, refuses to let the bitter, often petty nature of this sport ever affect him.

He seems to sail through it all, a bland, genial smile plastered over his face as he greets people, strolling through the paddock. Nico's all about the racing in a way that Seb's never really witnessed anyone else be, tolerating all the bullshit that goes along with this job with an equanimity that is, at times, almost unnerving.

He never complains about anything, so far as Seb can tell, except his car not being fast enough, and even then, he doesn't assign blame, doesn't snipe or whine. He merely states firmly that the problem needs to be fixed, and goes about doing everything in his power to help fix it. He's kind of the anti-prima donna, according to what Seb's seen.

Which, yes, is different, Seb thinks. And _interesting_.

Also interesting, just incidentally, is that Nico would appear to have a really, _really_ big cock. Like, amazingly big. Fucking _huge_ , even.

This particular fact, of course, has _nothing_ do with Seb's continuing preoccupation with Nico.

Nothing at all.

 

They're talking, chatting idly as they wait for the drivers' parade to start, and, as usual, Seb can't shake the feeling that all he's getting is just an echo of Nico, a mask, the perfectly polite but totally artificial persona that he seems to permanently maintain when he's away from the garage.

"We should have a drink sometime," Seb says, when they're about to leave, the cars almost ready.

"Really?" says Nico, raising his eyebrows just slightly. "Why?"

And Seb wasn't expecting _that_ , so he flounders a little. "I don't know," he says. "I thought maybe we could get to know each other better."

"Like a date?"

"No." Seb suddenly feels defensive. It's _weird_ , the way Nico's gotten to him, crawled under Seb's skin, seemingly without the slightest effort on his part. 

"Not a date, then," Nico says.

"Definitely not."

"That's a shame."

"Why?" asks Seb, trying not to sound hopeful. "Would you want to go on a date with me?"

Nico shakes his head. "Not really, no."

"Oh." And seriously, what an _asshole_ , Seb thinks. The guy's probably been luring him in deliberately, what with this whole, "Ooh, I'm so enigmatic and mysterious!" act, been enticing Seb on purpose just so he and his annoyingly massive cock can give Seb the brush-off. 

And he knows it's childish, but Seb can't help but feel slighted, because he's used to getting his own way, accustomed to people _wanting_ to spend time with him, and if Nico's not sufficiently interested to even want to have a mere _drink_ , then that stings. Enough that he has to try very hard not to pout, and he can tell he's failing by the fact that Nico's quite obviously having to make a pretty concerted effort to not laugh at him. Yeah, _asshole_.

"I mean," Nico says, smiling, "if you wanted me to fuck you…" He shrugs. " _That_ , I would like."

" _Oh_ ," says Seb, again. And he's suddenly _warm_. Very, very warm. "Well, yeah." 

"Good." Nico nods. "I'll let you know when I'm available."

"Sure," Seb says, feeling dizzy, and maybe he's just dazed at the prospect, or maybe it's just that there's apparently no actual blood left in his brain, what with the fact that most of it currently seems to be rushing towards to his groin faster than an F1 car on the straight.

They're called to their individual vehicles for the parade, and Nico wanders off, glancing back over his shoulder with an amused-looking smirk. "Sebastian," someone says, and then louder, "Sebastian."

"Yeah," Seb replies, still gazing after Nico. "Sorry," he says, walking over to his assigned car, pulling down the front of his shirt as best he can. And it's lucky, he muses, that they're required to sit down while touring the circuit. Because waving to the crowd while sporting what feels like an erection so epic he's pretty sure you could hang one of those Red Bull flags people are currently frenziedly shaking at him off it? Probably not so good.

But what _is_ good is that he's got a date. Or a not-date. A _sex_ not-date. Which, he's certain, is the _best_ kind of not-date.

 

"Hi," Nico says, answering the door of his hotel room, and Seb _tries_ to not just gape like a wide-eyed virginal loser, to actually _say_ something, but he's been basically rendered mute by the sight before him.

Which is Nico, with wet, darkened hair, wearing only a towel, his skin still slightly pink from the shower, a bottle of water in his hand.

Seb feels himself gulp, tries not to stare, and Nico smiles.

"Come in," he says, standing back, and Seb obeys, entering the room.

And Nico, it seems, is not one for pleasantries, because he doesn't offer Seb a drink, or a seat, or anything else. Instead, he walks across the room, sits himself down on the end of his bed and says, without preamble, "Take off your clothes."

"Oh," says Seb, because yeah, he's used to a little more build-up than you know, _that_ , but hey, why waste time? "Okay," he says, and sets about stripping himself, kicking his clothes to one side, watching Nico watch him, seeing him take a long, slow swallow from the bottle of water, his throat working. When he's done, he wipes over his mouth with the back of his hand, and it's so hot Seb can hardly even _bear_ it.

Nico looks at Seb, who's now naked, studies him for what feels like a long, long moment. And Seb's used to people looking at him, hell, his whole _life_ these days is basically people looking at him, but this is different. He could swear he's being _examined_ , catalogued somehow, and for a second he wants to squirm, uncomfortable under the concentrated _intensity_ of it, but he forces himself to relax, look back, meet Nico's gaze.

Nico nods, just slightly, then says, gesturing, "Touch yourself."

And Seb might be _dying_ to see what's under that towel, if it's really as spectacular as his observations would indicate, but he'll play along if that means he gets what he wants, so he doesn't just go straight for his cock, decides to put on a bit of a show, running his hands over his chest, rubbing his nipples, pinching them hard, making himself gasp.

Nico stares, more appreciatively now, more open, putting the bottle on the floor, leaning back on his hands, his legs spread. And Seb tries to concentrate, focus on what he's doing, but the towel has fallen just a _little_ to one side, and it's not anywhere near enough to actually _see_ anything, but there's definitely _something_ going on under there, an outline becoming clearer, more defined, through the fabric, and _goddamn_ , Seb thinks because, _yeah_ , that's big. 

That's _fucking_ big. 

He licks the palm of his hand, eyes glued to Nico's crotch as he starts to rub his cock, sliding his foreskin back and forth over the head, thumb circling over himself as he builds up a rhythm.

And Nico is, on the surface, at least, perfectly, annoyingly calm, despite whatever would appear to be happening beneath that towel, and _god_ , Seb thinks, nothing gets to this guy, like literally _nothing_.

"Can I…" he asks, feeling like some kind of stuttering prude. "Can I see it?"

"What?" Nico asks, smiling, and as if he fucking doesn't know. 

"Your cock," Seb says, trying to find his voice, stop being intimidated. "I want to see your cock."

"Okay," says Nico, shrugging, like it's no big deal, and he stands up, letting the towel fall from his hips.

Seb hears someone make a horrifyingly undignified noise of astonishment and he's assuming it wasn't Nico and, since there are only two people in this room (two people and Nico's dick, which is practically an entity all on its own), Seb's guessing it was him. And yeah, great, further humiliation, but who the fuck cares because holy shitting hell that thing is _enormous_.

He literally cannot stop staring, not even when Nico steps closer, his hand on Seb's cock, which, frankly, looks positively _stunted_ by comparison, but Seb can't process that far enough to feel insecure, because the only thing there's space for in his brain right now is the thought of how that thing is going to feel inside him.

Because it's going to feel _good_. 

"Do you want me to fuck you?" Nico asks, quietly.

"Yes," Seb says, voice hoarse, humiliatingly urgent with want.

"Are you going to be able to take me?"

"Yes." Seb shifts his hips restlessly.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Well." Nico contemplates him and Seb honestly can't tell whether or not he's smiling, a curious look in his eyes. "We'll see, won't we?" he says. "Get on the bed."

"Front or back?" Seb asks.

"Front."

And Seb complies, arranging himself on the bed, making a performance of it, wriggling his ass showily as he settles down, legs spread, trying to give Nico a good enough view that he'll fucking get on with it, because Seb's getting impatient; he _needs_ this, he needs it _now_ and he doesn't deal well with being kept waiting. 

"God," Nico says, amusement in his voice. "You're such an _actor_. Are you always like this?"

'"Maybe," Seb says, trying not to sound as petulant as he feels.

"Hmm," says Nico, thoughtful. "Hands over your head," he says. The headboard of the bed is made of vertical wooden slats and Seb raises his arms obediently, gripping them tight, feeling the stretch in his shoulders.

"Do you want to tie me up?" Seb asks, and _god_ , he's just putting it all out there, he knows, offering himself up, practically begging Nico to take exactly what he wants, whatever he chooses. A shiver runs through him at the thought, because what he also knows is that he'll give it all up willingingly. 

"Do I need to?" Nico says.

"No."

"Good." Nico taps Seb's hip. "Up," he says, sliding a couple of pillows under Seb's crotch, and when Seb settles back down his ass is stuck up in the air, like he's on _display_ , exposed in a way that should make him feel vulnerable, but instead only intensifies his hunger.

He feels the bed dip with Nico's weight, between his legs, and then his ass is being spread. He's waiting for fingers, but what he gets is Nico's tongue, hot and so very _wet_ , teasing at the edges of his hole and then sliding in, just the tip, then more. And then _more_ again.

Because while Nico's tongue obviously isn't as big as his cock (and at this point, in this state of stupid-making arousal, Seb might be convinced nothing that actually _exists_ is as big as Nico's cock), from this angle, it definitely feels not-small, the way it's snaking into Seb, licking the inside of him, fucking in and out till Seb's trying not to squirm, desperate to keep still, keep this going. 

But then there's lube, and there's fingers, long and slim and skilled, curving up to find _just_ the right spot until Seb can't stop moaning, hearing himself beg, stutter out long, strangled cries of _please_ and _yes_.

"You're so pretty this way," Nico says, voice still even, calm over the sound of a condom packet being torn open. "I like it," he says, "seeing you like this." Just the words are enough to make Seb thrust up against the pillows beneath him, restless and on edge, waiting, anticipating.

And then Nico's _there_ , finally, at last, cock lining up against Seb's hole, no hesitation, no _are you ready for me?_ bullshit or show, just a steady, unhurried push.

He takes it slow, almost torturously so, sliding in in stages, pausing to let Seb adjust, catch his breath. It seems to take forever, on and on, Seb whining at the burn of it, gripping the headboard white-knuckled, and when Nico's _in_ , really truly _in_ , he stops.

It's bordering on _panic_ , the feeling so intense, and for a moment Seb is outside of himself, dissociated, but then he inhales and he's _here_ , feeling all of it, every last fucking inch, the hot sweet _ache_ of it, Nico solid and huge inside him, filling him up till there's nothing else.

He tries to breathe, stay grounded, focus, but when Nico starts to move, that's it.

He's done.

 

"You okay?" Nico asks him, after. His arm is around Seb, Seb's head resting on his chest.

Seb doesn't answer, can barely move, feeling possibly more sated than he ever has in his _life_ , like every other fuck he's ever had was just some kind of rehearsal, a pale imitation that was only ever the build up to what he's just experienced. He lazily runs his fingers over Nico's skin, drawing random patterns, curves and angles, corners and apexes. 

Nico pulls him closer, amusement in his voice when he says, "Didn't think you'd be a _snuggler_."

"Well, I am," Seb replies, because yeah, he _is_ , and he's not going to feel ashamed of it.

"I like it," Nico says. He kisses the top of Seb's head, then adds, "But I get the feeling you're kind of high maintenance."

Seb pauses, thinks about lying, making an excuse, but honestly he's too blissed out to give a shit. "Maybe," he admits, then adds, "Sorry." And he's not, of course, because it's the truth, and he is what he is.

"But," says Nico, "I also think maybe you're worth the trouble."

"I guess you're going to find out," Seb says, not making even the slightest effort to keep the smugness out of his tone, and he hears Nico laugh softly.

"Yeah," he says, "I guess I am."


End file.
